REMEMBER MIXED TAPES?
Not playlists. Not Spotify.
I’m talking actual mixed tapes—the kind you made with a dual cassette deck, a prayer, and deep emotional commitment.
I found this little gem while decluttering the other day and it hit me right in the Caboodles case (Google this if you don’t remember these fine cosmetic accessories).
One of my besties made it for me in high school, and let me tell you—it’s fire before fire was even a thing.
Tried to explain it to my kids and… nope.
They’re still trying to figure out where the Scotch “tape” .goes.
Making a mixed tape was an art form.
You had to plan the playlist just right—no dead space, no chopped endings.
Song order mattered. Mood mattered. You were crafting a vibe, people. And you couldn’t just press play and walk away. Nope—you had to ride the levels, babysit the pause button, and be ready to flip that tape like your social life depended on it.
It wasn’t just a playlist.
It was a love letter. A secret handshake. A curated, 90-minute emotional support audio scroll.
So what’s the modern-day equivalent?
Venmoing someone $7 with the caption “go get your coffee, boo”?
Sending a meme that says “this made me think of you”?
I don’t know. But man…
Mixed tapes hit different.